Twelve
by starkiddypotter
Summary: A Doctor Who fanfiction. Originally for the Doctor Who Fanfiction contest on Figment. The story of Eleven's regeneration to Twelve. Please enjoy!


A shriek escaped from his throat. He immediately knew what was happening. He'd been fearing it for awhile now, because he knew it was about time. But in his mind he wished it wasn't true. Not yet. But now that he had been injured, there was no turning back.

His regeneration.

The Doctor's insides felt like a raging white-hot fire, so painful that it made him double over to the ground. He scrambled into his beloved ship, the TARDIS, he clung to the console for support, his two hearts beating like drums. He was filled with anger and fear, due to the uncertainty of his future self, and not wanting to leave his present one.

"Now? Why now?!" He questioned. His body was ready, but his mind was not. He ripped off the tweed jacket that he so religiously wore to relieve some weight off of his shoulders. He rapidly undid the silk red bowtie around his neck that suddenly felt like it didn't belong anymore. It gracefully fell to the ground on top of the jacket.

He scurried around to the other side of the TARDIS' console, and flipped a lever that sent him flying into the railing that surrounded it. He again yelped with pain, each touch sending another jolt of hot lightning up his body. "Not here, not now, _definitely_ not now…" He muttered as turned the various knobs and pushed the various buttons on the console with one hand, as the other clutched his side. There was one place in the universe where he didn't want to be at a time like this, and that was New York.

He attempted to aim the TARDIS somewhere peaceful and isolated, but during regeneration, his mind had a tendency to fail him. "Maybe… Dublin. Yes! Dublin! PERFECT!" The TARDIS jerked to a halt. He rushed through the door out into the middle of a busy Irish sidewalk. "No! Not Dublin!" He again hurried back inside to find a different location. "Places, countries, cities…" A range of names and pictures raced through his mind until another idea popped into his head. "Hong Kong! Of course!" The Doctor smiled through the pain as he typed in the coordinates of the Chinese city. He stepped outside the door to find himself next to many tall skyscrapers. The pain immediately got worse from all of the commotion around him. "Nope. Nope nope nope." He said as he ran inside once more. He knew he had little time. It was coming and there was no way to stop it. The Doctor remembered one more set of coordinates, and he hoped that his head wouldn't fail him this time.

The TARDIS landed in a quiet pasture on the Scottish countryside. "Yes… good." He could hardly manage to get the words out before the unbearable pain washed over him again. He slammed the door shut and struggled up the stairs, where he knew the reign of this form was about to end.

The Doctor stood up as straight as he could bear. The pain was immense. His usually bouncy and fluffed hair was a mess atop his head. The smell of the musty air filled the room, and the space around him seemed stuffier than usual. He couldn't stay. Not like this. He closed his eyes and embraced the inevitable moments ahead of him.

"I'm sorry."

His head violently whipped back as his limbs stretched outward, and a gold radiance spewed from his body as he transformed into a completely different being. His screams echoed through the massive ship as he was altered.

His voice was growing a little bit deeper. His arms and legs grew a little bit longer. His eyes changed to a lighter shade of blue. His hair grew shorter and turned to a light blonde. Little by little, he could feel himself changing. Not only his physical features, but his mental features included. He was turning into a whole new man. Body and spirit.

And finally, as quickly as it had come, it had gone. The pain vanished. The anger was swept away. The fear was no more. He felt absolutely pristine. A new Time Lord was born.

His hands leapt up to his face. They rubbed all around his brand new skin to check for all of his bodily features. He looked down at the rest of his body, searching to see if his transformation was successful. In doing so, he made a full circle around his body. He smiled with accomplishment; everything was in place. His hands rose up to the top of his head. "Hair? Oh splendid, a full head!" He excitedly ran to the wardrobe he had in the lower levels of the TARDIS. He presented himself in front of a full body mirror, and his smile turned into a childish frown. "Not ginger. But… blonde." He turned around to get a good look at himself. The suspenders weren't cutting it.

He dug through his seemingly endless pile of clothing to find something that would match him a little better. He found a dark grey turtleneck sweater, a sand colored dress coat that hung unbuttoned loosely at his sides, and black slacks. The outfit fit together very comfortably. The Doctor smiled at his handsome self in the mirror.

The Doctor trotted back up to the TARDIS' console and ran his hand along the side of it. "Hello, sexy." He said in a seductive voice. He walked slowly around the console and examined every piece of the complex ship that was around him. The air no longer seemed musty, but clean and purified. The space wasn't as stuffy. "Now then," He started. "Where would you like to begin?"


End file.
